Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. ” “I thought so,” Courtlaw said. ‘I live in Kent. "But, I say, that girl is a queer one. "Anything else?" "Your waistcoat. “Yeah, where the hell were you? My friends would have driven you home when I came home if I could have found you. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. Nice goings on. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. "You knew better than to bring her here under the circumstances.
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